


Trust In Me

by runkairun



Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6416710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runkairun/pseuds/runkairun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were hired as the new in-house Registered Massage Therapist at JYPE three months ago, and from the get go you've felt more interested than you should in Mark Tuan.  You're blissfully unaware of the fact that he reciprocates those feelings until a mortifying moment that turns into something magical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust In Me

**Author's Note:**

> WELL. I... don't know what to say. Honestly I was just thinking about Mark and then about massages and somehow this came out. I wanted to show his softer side, and flesh out the characters and their relationship. This was fun to write, once I got it going, hah. Had to get over the roadblocks in my own mind, but I'm pretty proud of how this wound up. I hope you all enjoy it! As always your comments are loved and appreciated! <3

It had been almost three months since you had stumbled upon the greatest opportunity in the universe for a registered massage therapist, but you still couldn't quite believe how it had all happened.

Working in the trade in Seoul always came with a certain number of high profile clients – that was just the nature of working in a major capital of international business. You were talented, polite, and not exactly unpleasant to look at, which was the perfect recipe to be hired by one of the most exclusive health clubs in the country straight out of school. In the five years you had worked there, you'd served government officials, international business travellers, celebrities of every calibre, and you had even been sent on special commissions to the sorts of private estates that existed only in dreams. Honestly, the highest pinnacle in your trade was discretion, because you had seen the world's most elite at their most vulnerable.

The initial excitement of serving elite clients had worn off rather quickly, as it had become an every day occurrence. Content with your career, you'd had little anticipation of the way a single event, one woman – who wasn't anyone of particular fame herself – could completely alter your life. JYP's personal assistant never forgot the way you'd manged to release tension in her neck that had been held for years, despite regular visits to a chiropractor and another RMT. She would never forget the way a lock of your dark hair escaped from your carefully pinned bun, framing rounded cheek, bringing her attention to your dark eyes and long lashes. When the company's in-house specialist had retired, yours would be the first name she would recall, and your next visit was from the entertainment mogul himself.

The entire experience had been... unsettling at the time. Every client had their own preferences, but JY Park was perhaps the most forward individual you'd ever encountered on the table. At the time, it seemed as if he was going out of his way to make you uncomfortable, to elicit some kind of reaction from the professional who had come so highly recommended. His confidence had verged on exhibitionism, and he'd spent most of the appointment asking you personal questions. Where had you grown up? Had this always been your dream? What were you passions? It had been difficult not to become flustered, but you'd maintained your composure and still indulged his curiosities, passing what it seemed had been his test.

Two hours later, your boss was practically begging you to sign the contract on the table before you because it would be such an honour just knowing JYP had chosen his new in house massage therapist from her staff. Your heart raced in your chest, but you couldn't deny the allure of the job you had just been offered. It came with an apartment as a part of the salary, and the wage on top of that was, well, beyond generous. You would never have to work outside the company, but you would be permitted to do so, so long as you did not bring other clients to the apartment complex. The confidentiality clauses were nothing new to you and while you would never dream of acting on it – what hot-blooded person in their mid-twenties could deny what a joy it would be to work on some of the world's most famous idols?

Now, you expert hands smoothed along Mark Tuan's lean-muscled chest, up his neck and to his temples to relieve the tension of GOT7's recent promotions. He lets out a sigh of content, body completely at ease for the first time in weeks. The only sound that fills the moments that follow is that of his deep, serene breathing, which is truly one of the most gratifying sensations in your profession. You can't help but feel a prick of pride in knowing your clients trust you enough to let themselves go entirely, to release their fears and their tensions and give you the power to put them at ease, one hour at a time. Mark is always generous in his expressions.

In the time that you've worked for JYPE, you've performed a variety of therapies for nearly every idol in the company, but Mark is easily your favourite client. While everyone is perfectly polite, he seems to go out of his way to make you smile when he comes to the studio in your apartment. He's a year younger than you, and always eager to share not only about the group's latest adventures, but about his experiences growing up abroad. Having grown up in a rural province yourself, his worldliness is impressive. The truth was, if it wouldn't put your job at risk, Mark would be the kind of man you might be brave enough to pursue. It's a forbidden dream, though, something that will always be out of reach, so you allow yourself to remain content with the brief times you share and the daydreams that linger in your mind from time to time thereafter.

Your fingers drift delicately away from his temples, smoothing from the bridge of his nose to his hair line, leaving the final, soothing touches before they return to your sides. “Alright Mark-ssi, that's it for today. Take your time getting up, your hip may still be a little tender from the work we did,” you explain with a soft smile as you open the door of the second bedroom of your apartment, which serves as your studio. It clicks shut softly behind you, and you pad quietly to the kitchen to wash your hands of the oils that coat them before applying a light hand cream to keep them from cracking. 

Back in the room, Mark sighs as he slowly sits up, running a hand through his hair. Before you'd shown up, he had come to get a massage maybe once a month, when his schedule allowed for it. These days, he was always the first member too book a session when they returned from touring, and when he and the band were home in the apartment, he was there almost every week. It wasn't just the magic in your touch that kept him coming back, either.

Once his clothing was pulled back over his body, he exited the room, leaving the door open as he knew you preferred, and cut a path into the living area. “Thank you so much, ___-ssi,” he bowed deeply before straightening and offering the broad smile that made you weak in the knees. “I see what you mean about the hip, but really it feels so much better already,” he explained, hand grazing over the sensitive muscle.

You nodded as you moved out of the kitchen, holding out a glass of water for him. Mark took the glass, drinking immediately as you always insisted he should be sure to stay hydrated, especially with frequent visits. “I know it's pretty much impossible but try to take it easy on that side if you can – and don't start favouring the other too much unless you want it to get just as bad. There's no need to aggravate it into an injury,” you warned, hands clasping in front of your hips as you rocked forward onto you tiptoes and back down to the flats of your feet.

While his looks were never filled with the hunger you'd seen from other clients, they did follow your body as it moved easily back and forth before seeking your gaze. His trademark smile seemed to live inside his chocolatey eyes, and it made your heart flutter, although the only outward sign was the slight upward turn in your lips. “Take it easy – heh, I'll try, ___-ssi,” he promised, holding the now empty glass back out to you. “We leave next week for Japan. Do you have any room in your schedule for me on Thursday?” He was already moving toward the door as he asked, and you quickly turned to your appointment book, flipping to the next page.

“Will 10AM work for you, Mark-ssi?” you asked, already beginning to pencil his name into the page. He nodded in agreement as he slipped his shoes on. Reluctant as you were to see him go, you bid farewell to the younger man and set off toward the massage room to gather the laundry and prepare for your next appointment.

Two floors up and across the building, Mark sighed as he slumped back into the dorm he shared with his members, neatly placing his shoes next to the rack. “So did you do it, hyung!?” Came a shout from the living room, and soon Jackson was bounding toward him, eyes alight with excitement and hope. The moment he caught the slump in his hyung's shoulders, though, the younger man's face fell into an exaggerated pout, his eyes narrowing as he tried to discern the visage before him. “She... she didn't say no!?” he exclaimed, hand coming quickly to grasp Mark's shoulder in concern.

The eldest member smiled softly as he turned toward his dear friend and shook his head slightly. “Nah... I didn't ask. I KNOW, I know. I was supposed to do it before we left but... I scheduled an appointment for Thursday, so maybe?” He shrugged, eyes meeting Jackson's almost timidly.

The blond groaned as he gruffly shook Mark's shoulder, dragging him toward the living room. “How many times are you going to put off asking this girl out, Mark-hyung?” Jackson enquired in an exasperated tone. JB and Yugyeom sat on the couch, and the leader lifted a curious eyebrow toward the pair as they entered. Jackson shook his head, shoving Mark gently toward the other two. “He chickened out again,” he explained, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Seriously?” Jaebum let out a soft chuckle as he turned to Yugyeom, who groaned and dropped his head back against the back of the couch. “Hey, don't you sass me, kid. Pay up – I won this fair and square,” he insisted, holding his hand out to await the payment.

Yugyeom reluctantly tugged a few bills from his back pocket, slapping them into the leader’s hand before sparing an apologetic look to the man who took a seat at his side. “Sorry hyung, but I bet in your favour this week! I really thought this was gonna be it. Before we went to Japan, right? So you can go out before the new album promotions start!” This was met by a sigh from the eldest member, who affectionately squeezed the maknae's shoulder before dropping his hands into his lap.

“He says he'll ask her her at their next appointment on Thursday,” Jackson interrupted, earning a glare from Mark as he smirked. “I wouldn't put too much faith in him if you don't wanna start owing people favours,” he teased. 

From his spot, Jaebum looked up again, clearing his throat. “Thursday? Sorry to break it to you, Mark-hyung, but we got booked for a photo shoot that day.” The leader shook his head as he stood from the sofa, knowing there wasn't any comfort he could offer. “I don't wanna be the one to say it, but you've really gotta stop procrastinating on this, man, before someone beats you to the punch.” This disappointment among all four men was palpable, but it was most noticeable in Mark as his head sunk into his hands with a sigh of frustration. He wouldn't even have time to tell her in person that he would have to cancel the appointment. 

 

___-ssi,  
Sorry I couldn't come see you.  
The one free day got booked, which  
means I won't be back for over a month.  
I promise to take it easy on the hip.  
-Mark  
Nearly a month and a half later, you stared at the note and, next to it, the e-mail on your phone scheduling an appointment for that afternoon. Cancellations were a part of any service trade, and they certainly weren't uncommon in your current position. Idols seemed to be busier than most politicians, which said something for the amount of work they did. It was no wonder in-house specialists were needed to tend to their needs. Still, you'd been disappointed when you'd found the note taped to your door, knowing it would be so long before you'd see him again. You hadn't even been able to send your wishes along for a good tour in Japan, for which you felt almost more remorseful than for the fact it would be so long before you were graced with that beautiful smile at your door again.

Although you were rarely anxious, you were on edge the rest of the day, simply waiting for the hour to arrive when Mark would knock at your door. You were as professional as ever, but you could feel the tension in your own neck and shoulders, the tightness which you rarely tended to as you insisted your clients should. The slightest noises had you jumping throughout the day, and you were more rigorous in your routines of laundry and dishes between each client.   
There was nearly an hour after the last appointment before Mark, and you checked the sheets on the table no fewer than five times, dusted the living room for good measure, and triple checked your appearance in the mirror, refreshing your makeup and tucking that pesky fly-away back into your bun with yet another bobby-pin meticulously placed. Even after all this, five minutes remained, and you forced yourself to sit on your couch, holding a magazine you weren't actually reading until the knock came to your door.

It was embarrassing how quickly you jumped to your feet, and although Mark couldn't have known that you'd been so eagerly anticipating his arrival, you cheeks were touched with a delicate blush as you opened the door with a smile. “Mark-ssi, welcome back,” you smiled as you bowed and held the door open for him. 

Of course, as you stepped back, Mark's smile was just as radiant, and you felt your heart race as he bowed and made his way into the apartment. “Thank you, ___-ssi, it's good to see you,” he greeted as he neatly tugged his shoes off his feet and placed them at the rack at your door. It felt like it had been so long since he'd seen you, and he couldn't help the way his eyes took in your appearance from head to toe before returning to your face. “I trust they took good care of you here while we were away?”

On most days, you found it easy to regain your composure – even around Mark – but your heart wouldn't stop pounding in your chest, and a flush graced your cheeks as you averted your gaze, looking down to try and hide the pinkness there. “Oh yes, of course,” you nodded, inhaling sharply through your nose to try and push away your nerves. “And the tour went well? I watched as many broadcasts as I could,” you admitted with a smile as you turned to walk him to the room. 

Now it was Mark who turned shy at your words, and he turned to you at the door you held open to the treatment room. “It was great. Maybe you'll have to come see us the next time we play in town. You deserve a break sometimes too, you know,” he shrugged slightly, leaning against the door.

Your nervous laughter was uncharacteristic, but it set something in the man alight as he watched you fumble over your words. His teeth caught his lower lip, and after a moment he shook his head and straightened his posture, pulling you out of your head, too. “Alright go on, I'll be there in just a moment,” you prompted, and soon he was in the room and you were closing the door.

Your eyes grew wide as you leaned against the door, and then you were rushing into the bathroom, splashing cool water to your face to try and calm yourself. “Control yourself, ___,” you whispered harshly at your reflection, gripping the edge of the sink. Your heart continued to beat a wild rhythm in your chest, but after several deep breaths, you thought, perhaps, you were ready to face him. It was just another massage, like the countless others you'd given Mark Tuan in your time with the company. He was just another idol. You sighed – that wasn't true and you knew it, but you had to try, for the sake of your career. At least you wouldn't be able to see his smile for the first half of the session.

One more deep breath had you walking as calmly as possible to the hall, knocking quietly on the door to announce your entry. Despite your better instincts, your eyes lingered on the strong shoulders that remained exposed, and you had to look away and shake your mind clear once again. As always you asked if there were any trouble spots, and after warming your hands, the treatment began.

As usual, your hands seemed to find every spot of tension that Mark needed released, and he quickly lost himself to the utter relaxation of the treatment. You, however, felt hyper-aware of every sound he made, every minute response to your touch in his body and his voice. Your shoulders tensed when he released a breath as you worked his hips, your own breath caught when he visibly flexed then fully relaxed as you released a knot in his shin. You had never had this problem before, had never felt any response to the reactions of your clients. As Mark turned to his back on the table, though you couldn't deny what was going through you mind. 

Once again, your heart was racing as you worked his arms and shoulders, but what Mark noticed was that you were unusually quiet that afternoon. It wasn't as if you were typically chatty, but he'd grown accustomed to you quiet enquiries and delicate instructions. As he looked at you then, he couldn't help but wonder what was on your mind as your lips pursed while you continued your treatment. He couldn't quite bring himself to ask, though, and so he allowed his eyes to close again until the session had ended.

Much like the rest of the session, you had hardly said a word as you left Mark to dress and moved to the kitchen to pour a glass of water – this time pouring one for yourself as well. The cool liquid shocked you as is splashed down your throat, but the dryness was at least in part relieved by the time your client had emerged from the room. 

Now that he was no longer on your table, Mark felt as if he'd found his voice again. “___-ssi, is everything alright?” he asked, taking the glass you held out for him with a hand that shook slightly. His brow creased with concern, but you looked away, shaking your head to brush it off.

“I...I'm fine. Thank you. It's just... been a long day,” you insisted before looking back up and taking the glass from Mark. He hesitated for a moment, mind turning over the question that lingered at the tip of his tongue. He'd sworn this would be the day he would ask you out, but now he found himself questioning whether the timing was right. Perhaps it should wait for another day, when you'd had a little rest.

“Of course,” Mark smiled warmly, but it was not the toothy grin you found so endearing. It made you ache to see him withdraw that way, but perhaps it was for the best. “Well I'll.. I'll have to look at the schedule but I'll e-mail you for my next appointment, alright?” He was already at the door, slipping on his shoes, and you nodded in agreement. “See you soon, ___-ssi. Get some rest,” he suggested. And without another word he was gone.

Once the door closed, you slumped against the counter, letting out the groan you'd been holding in almost the entire hour. “Shit,” you muttered to yourself, finally taking inventory of just how strongly you'd reacted to Mark over the last hour. You were tense, but more importantly, it felt as if your blood was positively buzzing through your veins, igniting every inch of your body with electricity. You reached up to pull the carefully placed bobby pins from your hair, and as dark locks fell loose around your shoulders, you rubbed your thighs together experimentally.

An involuntary moan escaped your mouth at the friction, eyes closing as your head tilted back. You couldn't do anything in this state. As shameful as you felt, there were some things that needed to be taken care of. It wouldn't have been so problematic if the images coursing through you mind were of anything other than Mark's lean forearms and long fingers, or his succulent, round pout. Your tongue swept out over your bottom lip as you moved for your own bedroom, fingers working to unbutton the jeans that had suddenly become so cumbersome. 

Once you were free of your pants, you didn't bother to make your way to the bed – your need was too desperate. Leaning against the wall just inside the door, you didn't have to look to know your wetness has seeped through your pink cotton panties, but you still marvelled at the slickness that met your middle and ring fingers as the rubbed over the thin material. “Oh god,” you faltered, head hitting the wall as you worked slowly over the sensitive skin. You knew you would need to take your time that day, that rushing would only leave you more frustrated in the end.

Outside, down the hall, Mark paused at the stairwell, looking down at his bare arms. Of course he'd forgotten his sweatshirt on that of all days. The last thing he wanted to do was go back and bother you when you'd seemed so clearly out of your usual spirits, but he knew he'd regret not having the extra layer later. Sighing he turned and trudged back down the hall, raising his hand to knock at the door.

Your finger pushed the material aside, now, and and tenderly ran along the outside of your folds, working you up even further. Lost in the pleasure of your own ministrations, you did not hear the quiet knock at the door, much less the soft creak as it opened. Finally fed up with your own teasing, you pressed your finger between you folds and dragged it upward, making the first, light contact with your swollen clit. The moan that erupted from you travelled out the door of your room, wrapping around the unsuspecting visitor who had just entered.

At the front door, Mark froze in the midst of pushing his shoes off his feet. The music still filtered quietly from the treatment room, but there was no way that sound was a part of the soothing soundtrack that played during his massages. Biting his bottom lip, he listened, quickly catching the sounds of laboured breathing followed by another delicious moan in a voice that was entirely too familiar. He swallowed and shook his head, finally taking another step into the apartment.

He should have called out to you sooner, should have warned you of his presence, but he felt drawn down the hall by the sounds you were making, his body responding all too readily to those heady, desperate noises. He had barely breached the hallway when he caught his first glimpse of you, and immediately he retreated backwards – and directly into a stool at the bar.

“Crap!” Mark yelped, hopping as he grabbed his ankle – and this sound was enough to alert you. Your eyes shot wide open at the familiar voice, and your hand flew away from your dripping core, grabbing your shirt to try and wipe away the sticky residue. Your heart seemed to be leaping out of your throat, and as you saw him in the hall you gripped your shirt, tugging it downward around your hips, as if you might cover the evidence of your activities.

“Mark!?” you cried, but rather than desire, your voice was laced with horror as you awkwardly stepped into the hallway. “I – oh god what are you doing here!? Oh my god this can't be happening right now,” you groaned as your eyes squeezed shut. Your core ached to be touched, your body still so far from its desperately needed climax, but your mind raced with how to remedy the situation. You were going to be in so much trouble when your boss found out this had happened. Why – WHY couldn't you learn to lock the damn door?

Across from you, Mark's mouth fell open, his foot finding its way back to the floor as he took in the sight of you. He'd never seen your hair loose, never looked so closely at the way your breasts swelled beneath your shirt or how your hips held that perfect, slight curve. His lips pressed together, and his tongue swept out between them as he swallowed. “I... I'm so sorry ___,” he whispered, but his eyes didn't move from your body. Instead they followed the path created by your arms to the fists that tugged at the hem of your shirt and the soaking mess of the underwear that had snapped back into place.

Once again, Mark swallowed, and slowly his gaze lifted back to yours. For once, those warm brown eyes were touched not with their usual kindness, but rather with a feral sort of hunger. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes connected, and suddenly it came in shallow, fast gasps. “___-ah... is that why you were so quiet today?” He took a step forward as the question dropped from his lips, eyes narrowing on your face.

Your teeth sank into your lip so hard you thought you might bleed as he approached. You couldn't find your voice for the way your heart slammed against your rib cage, but you managed to nod in the affirmative, finally turning your head away from the man who was approaching all too slowly. You could feel tears threatening to breach your eyes, but by by all that was good if you didn't want him to touch you. Need for him to take you in his arms. 

The hand that slipped under your chin was surprisingly ginger in it's touch, inviting you in the most patient, affectionate fashion to lift your gaze back upwards. You could still see the hunger in Mark's eyes, but his movements were carefully controlled, and he seemed to search your face for a clearer clue. “It's... this, this is because of me?” he whispered, voice earnest with hope. 

“Yes,” you replied softly, and the tears were on your cheeks, the mixture of your fear and desire setting fire to your body. “I-I'm s-sorry, Mark-ssi,” you pleaded, “p-please, I ca-” but your pleas were silenced by a finger on your lips and a shake of his head. As you swallowed he let his fingers trace up your cheek to your hair, where they ran through the thick locks to push them behind your ear. Maybe he'd been meant to come back, after all.

“Don't be sorry, ___.” You swore your pulse was straining hard enough against your neck and temples that he could hear it, too, but Mark didn't seem deterred by your excitement. Heat radiated off of his body, which was now inches from your own as he leaned over you. Your hands finally released your shirt, and in search of some new purchase they landed at his hips. This time, it was Mark who gasped at the touch, eyes closing in disbelief. “God, please don't be sorry for this,” he repeated, although the words were more for his own benefit then than yours. 

And then his lips were crashing into yours.

Caught off guard, you were still for a moment, but as his full bottom lip dragged up against your own, you released your breath and gripped his hips more tightly. It was all too easy to fall into his movements, to allow his tongue to slip past your lips and engage in a heated dance. The hand in your hair tightened as he pulled you closer, your body lifting away from the wall as if it were weightless in his embrace. His other arm snaked around the small of your back holding you to him, and your own fingertips slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, exploring his skin in a way you had never even allowed yourself to dream of.

Mark was walking you backwards toward the bed, then, his hand rubbing against your back and pressing the hem of your shirt upwards. You were reluctant to pull your hands from him, but obliged as he released your hair and pulled back from the kiss, pulling the offending garment up over your head. You shivered slightly as the cool air of the room his your exposed skin, or perhaps because of the way his breathing changed as he took in the shape of your torso. Your teeth found your bottom lip as you looked up at him, but they tugged more gently at the skin this time as the fingers of your right hand wove into his blond locks, pressing them away from his forehead.

Mark's breath caught in his throat as he absorbed the beautiful sight before him, mind struggling to find words that could do it justice. Instead, he flattened his palm against your side, allowing it to roam upwards slowly. He was transfixed by the way you flinched and then relaxed into his touch, mesmerized by slow arching of your back, thrusting your body further into his grasp. “Shit,” he muttered, finally bringing his lips back to yours. This kiss was slower, more chaste. His lips formed to yours, pulling slowly away and dragging you with him until the moved to your cheek, down your jaw, to your neck.

Your eyes closed as you tilted your head to allow him access, the breath whooshing from you lips at the sensation. Where his lips caressed your skin, his tongue swept along, leaving a cool trail of desire that etched lower and lower until it reached your collar bone. “Mark -” your voice was breathy as he stopped to nip at the exposed scaffolding of your body, pricking your collarbone with his perfect teeth, nose brushing against your throat. His hand had finally moved to your back, and you obliged, lifting yourself to meet his mouth as he deftly unclasped your bra and swept it away from your body.

The friction of the material grazing over your nipples left you uttering the softest whimper, your fingers gripping into Mark's hair to pull his face away from his soft, leisurely efforts against your skin. Before you could begin to beg, his hand was cupping your breast, slender fingers grazing over your pert nipple. You whimpered at his touch, eyes fluttering as thumb and forefinger pinched the sensitive nub to send shock waves through your body.

Mark could hardly tear his eyes from your beautiful form, eager to watch the way the slightest change in his touch could elicit the most delightful reactions. “___-ah,” he whispered as the fingers of his free hand brushed your hair away from your forehead and ghosted down your temple and along your jaw. “You are magnificent,” he continued, eyes following the path of his fingers as they travelled down your throat, along the dip between your collarbones, around the curved of your breast. Your lips produced a heady sigh at his touch, only serving to escalate his fascination with you. 

“So beautiful,” Mark muttered burying his face between your breasts, inhaling your scent as if it were the sweetest drug he'd ever tasted. His breath grew heavy against your skin, hot puffs spreading over your chest until his lips began to graze to the side, tongue striking out against your nipple and swirling around in the lightest, most teasing touch. Your moan erupted through the room, filling his ears and encouraging his action until his teeth gripped your nipple, providing a delicious contrast to the soft, caring touches he'd treated you to thus far.

The delightful pain was enough to send your hips rolling upwards, meeting his still-clothed groin where it pressed into you. Lost in the pleasure of his touches, you hadn't taken notice of the fact that he was still fully dressed until the rough denim of his jeans rubbed against your thighs. As his tongue flattened against your nipple, soothing the bite marks he'd just left, your hands gripped at the back of his shirt, dragging it upwards with a whine until he finally released you. “Hmm, not very patient, are we,” he teased, although he helped you to pull the shirt the rest of the way off. You ached for him, but you had just enough control left to play along.

As Mark looked down on you with a smirk you had only seen hinted at in photos, you pressed your bottom lip out into a pout, allowing your hands to fall to the waist of his jeans where you tugged. He chuckled at your actions, but made no move to stop you as your hands undid the button and zipper, and he obediently lifted his hips to shake the jeans off when they'd been pushed past his hips. “Happy now?” he smirked again, but you were consumed by your own heat as he rolled his hips against yours, his erection rubbing teasingly above your core.

You were too breathless to respond, but your hands gripped his arms just above the elbow as you rolled forward again – only to find empty air. Your eyes shot open, but Mark had dropped his face to your stomach, then, his lips worshipping the expanse of fair, smooth skin as he worked his way downward. Your grip loosened, and his forearms slipped slowly through your grasp until his hands slipped beneath your lower back to grasp your ass. His mouth had found its way to your right hip, and his nose tickled against your skin, followed by his tongue in such a way that goosebumps rose on every inch of your flesh. You could feel yourself twitching toward him, and he eagerly obliged your desires as his fingers hooked under the elastic of your panties and pulled them down over your hips.

Your body lifted in response, Mark's hands stroking along your outer thighs as he peeled your underwear away, and then back along the inner as he moved toward your need. The way he slipped his shoulders beneath your legs was seamless, and his lips were suddenly following the path of his hands from your knee to your thigh until his tongue swept along the curve between your thighs and your core, up to your hips. “M..Mark,” you husked, desperately trying to keep your hips pressed down against the bed, “please.”

His eyes flitted upwards, hooded as they watched the rise and fall of your chest. His breath reached your soaking folds, sending chills into your core as he licked his lips. “Ask me again,” he commanded, deep voice gruff with desire now that he was so close to tasting you. 

You could practically feel that tongue touching you as it swept back and forth over his lips. “Please, Mark-ah. Please,” you uttered, voice barely audible with the lack of air in your lungs. The man at your hips hummed his pleasure at the sound of your desire, and his hands grazed over your hips and up your thighs.

“Anything you want,” Mark replied, and his nose touched to that deepest spot of your abdomen ever-so delicately before his tongue swept softly over your sex. Your eyes squeeze shut again as the little air remaining in your body wheezed out, leaving you lightheaded and fully at his mercy. For all that he had taken his time getting there, though, he was generous now that he had reached your heat. Having tasted the desire he'd driven in you, his tongue dove past those outer folds, flattening against you as it dragged upward, over your center and across your aching clit.

You could no longer hold your hips down, but Mark made no move to hold you back as you arched into his mouth, allowing the movement to help his lips wrap around you completely. The surrender of your careful control was almost enough in itself to start sending you over the edge, but you had been aching for too long to reach your end so quickly. Your breath was coming in shallow, panting gasps, your thighs tightening against Mark's shoulders and around his face. The languid strokes of his tongue against your heat were soothing as much as they were exciting, and as he slipped carefully away from your core to kiss your thigh, the ache you expected was absent.

“Relax, ___-ah,” Mark coaxed you as his lips moved down your thigh and then back up toward your hips. “Trust me. Let me take care of you, now,” he entreated, and as your breath slowed he hummed against your thigh, pressing the sweetest kiss to your sensitive skin. 

Satisfied that you would be able to properly enjoy yourself now, Mark's middle finger pressed between your folds, the digits beside it separating the wet layers of your core to reveal that most intimate part of you to him. “Perfect,” he sighed, eyes devouring the sight of you as the pad of his finger circled over your entrance. His mouth pressed back against you, tongue slicking past his finger until it connected with your clit once more. It swept back and forth, testing your reactions before he flattened it against that bundle of nerves and set properly to work. You didn't think anything could feel as beautiful as that tongue lapping against you triggering the deepest, shuddering sensations in your body, but then his finger pushed ever-so-lightly into your core and you were arching to meet that gentle thrust of his wrist.

Mark smiled against you, and his finger and tongue progressed in and enchanting rhythm, drawing out continuous, low moans from your lips. It was a feeling of pure ecstasy, of utter surrender as you allowed him to worship your womanhood with all he had to offer. Your breath caught as his index finger pressed at your entrance, but it slipped in easily, stretching carefully against your walls before joining into the erotic dance he'd engaged in. 

One cool hand pressed against your head, digging into your hair as lifted your head from the pillow behind you. The other grazed fondly over Mark's forehead, brushing his fringe away from his eyes until your nails grazed against his scalp. You couldn't remember ever feeling so at ease with anyone, least of all your first time together. There was something beautiful in the way he seemed to dedicated to your pleasure, though. Something so endearing in the way his eyes flitted up to yours, making contact in that most intimate moment and refusing to release you from their gaze. You sighed in absolute pleasure, but the hand on his head was pushing back, now, urging him away from your heated core.

Mark reluctantly obliged your silent request, but he was as careful in pulling away from you as he had been in all things. The pressure of his tongue lightened until he swept it gingerly away from your clit and over his lips, which were dripping with you. His fingers slowed, but did not come out as he looked at you with concern. “I'm fine,” you insisted, lips curving into a soft smile as you pushed yourself up, cupping his face to capture him in a chaste kiss. “Better than fine,” you continued, kissing him again, this time slipping your tongue between his lips until they parted, allowing you to explore his mouth and delight in the mixture of his musky flavour mixed with your own, lighter essence. You brushed his hair back again as you kissed, rocking forward until he was forced back onto his haunches, with you straddling his lap. 

At long last, his fingers slipped out of you with a slick squish, and you released the kiss to sigh against Mark's lips. His eyes opened to take in your face, and while your forehead rested against his, his fingers slipped between his lips, his tongue lapping away the last traces of your taste. Your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, but you couldn't shake the hold his gaze had on you. So you let yourself remain his captive, flattening your hand against his firm chest to feel his heart thrumming against his ribcage. “You've always been so kind to me,” you murmured, your voice just loud enough to reach both of your ears. “Always looking after me, when I'm the one who's meant to be taking care of you,” you continued, and your hand stroked across his chest, beginning to zigzag slowly from side to side, reaching lower and lower as it moved. 

The fingers slid from Mark's lips then, and he cradled your face in his hands, brushing your hair behind your ears. “Mmm, you deserve to be taken care of, ___-ah,” he replied, nose skimming against yours. “I've been... I keep meaning to,” he began, but the index finger of your free hand pressed against his full lips, silencing him as you shook your head gently.

Your other hand had finally reached its target, and as you caressed his erection through his briefs, you teeth dug into your lower lip, finally breaking the delicate skin there. “Mmmm,” you hummed through your teeth until you released your lip, and then he was kissing you again, carefully sweeping his tongue over your damaged lip, his hips lifting into your touch. Your hand moved lower, cupping his balls before smoothing up and down, up and down along his throbbing cock. You pulled back from the kiss and forced your faces apart so you could look at him properly. “I... I need you Mark-ah,” you admitted, hand moving to the waist of his underwear.

Mark nodded in reply, swallowing as he took in the desire in your dark eyes. His arm wrapped around your lower back, and then he was twisting, laying himself back as he lifted you more fully on top of him. You couldn't help the way your pulse quickened as you hovered, naked, over his hips, pulling his briefs down his thighs. Your hand returned quickly to his erect member, wrapping around his base and pumping gently upwards. Your eyes drifted away from his once again, taking in the sight of precum weeping from his head. Your hand moved upwards, your thumb brushing over his sensitive tip to lubricate your fingers.

“No,” Mark stopped you, hand coming to your wrist. Your brow furrowed, but he only offered a sweet smile as he lowered your hand on his erection and helped you to guide it toward your core. “I... only have so much willpower,” he admitted sheepishly, cheeks flushing slightly as he met your eyes again. You released the breath you'd been holding and chuckled softly, but you dragged his tip along your folds, wetting it with the excitement he'd worked up in you earlier. “So incredible,” Mark moaned , allowing his eyes to close. There really wasn't any better encouragement than that, and as you positioned him, you slid carefully onto him, your hips settling slowly downward until they met his.

You sucked in a breath which seemed to have been released from Mark's lungs in the same moment, eyes closing as you adjusted to his size stretching your walls. You were more than prepared for him, and yet his length gave you a luscious stretch, accompanied by a vague ache that left you craving more. “Mark,” you whispered, your hands falling forward to grip his shoulders as you rolled your hips against him.

Mark's hands came to your hips, but he allowed you total control as you curved your hips against his, twisting until he was reaching you in just the right spot. Your breath caught and your hips stilled for a moment, and when they moved again you let out a low moan, grinding harder into him. “That’s it, ___, show me where to go,” he coaxed you, and soon his hands were encouraging your movements. The pace was slow and steady, your hips lifting slightly as the rolled against him, his thumbs massaging your hips as they helped you to move. “Mmm, so fucking beautiful,” he murmured again before rolling his hips up to meet yours.

There in your bed, you melded together perfectly. Your body guiding Mark to the the spots of deepest pleasure, his hips following your lead to thrust deeper within your center, meeting that sweet spot time and time again until you a moaning wreck, your arms shaking against his shoulders. His arms took you easily, stilling your body as he sat up and began to turn your position. You were happy to let him take control again, and you leaned against him as he laid you back against the bed, arms lingering around his neck to pull him down for a kiss.

Your lips crushed together while Mark picked up where you'd left off rolling his hips into yours as he hitched your leg around his waist. You curled around him obediently, heels digging into the small of his back as you met him thrust for thrust. This time, it was his lip you bit down on, as you dragged your teeth along his soft skin he growled, and something seemed to twist inside him. You could feel him straining to keep his patient, adoring pace, but you could hardly stand it much longer, yourself. “M..Mark, faster,” you whimpered, and he sighed in relief against your neck.

His hips bucked roughly against you, sending his erection slamming into the place you needed it most, and your head fell back in a desperate moan. Having found his direction, Mark picked up his pace, thrusting hard and fast into your core, eliciting short, sharp moans from your body as he worked you closer to the edge. “God yes, ___, let yourself go. Let yourself cum for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, free hand grasping your breast again. His touch was rougher now, and his teeth fell to tug at your nipple before his lips captured the nub, suckling at the delicate flesh and pushing you higher and higher until -

“MARK!” you called out, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as you felt yourself slipping. You clenched around him, not longer able to meet his thrusts as your climax began to overtake your body. His thrusts didn't slow as your orgasm claimed you, and you swore you rode that high longer than you ever had, your voice cracking as you called out to your lover and pulled him against you.

Mark had released your breast, using both hands to support him as he dove into you, and as clenched and tightened around him, he began to shake and shudder until he was releasing into you, his hips losing any actual rhythm as they rolled hopelessly into your heat until he crashed against you in exhaustion.

Your legs slid from around his waist, tangling with his as he rested inside you, chest heaving against your own as your hearts beat out erratic rhythms against one another. You nuzzled against him, brushing your nose against his ear as your breath came out in shuddered releases. His lips moved numbly against your shoulder, his tongue gently licking away the sweat that had formed there. You thought you might be able to stay like that forever, but eventually Mark took a deeper breath and braced himself against his forearms, lifting carefully out of you.

The remnants of his passion dripped down your thighs, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as he moved to your side, tugging the covers from beneath you both and pulling them up to wrap around you. Mark's arms curled around your waist, and you turned to you side to face the man you hadn't realized you were so completely head over heels for. “Thank you,” you smiled, a short, soft laugh following the words. You'd forgotten everything else in the heat of the moment, but as you laid with him the worry started to seep it's way into the back of your mind. “I.. I am sorry, Mark. This is, well it's totally against everything in my code of ethics and I -” but once again he was there to stop you, this time with a kiss that he held until you relaxed and responded to the movement of his lips.

“Much better,” he smiled, brushing his fingers through your hair again. “I tried to say it earlier, ___-ah, but I've been trying to work up the guts to ask you out for... well since we first met, really. It's not because of your job or anything. I just... I mean it when I say your sort of incredible,” he confessed, eyes searching yours for a reaction. You considered him as he watched you, weighing the truth of his words in your mind. “It... well I mean. I was going to ask today but you were so... well, now I know why you were tense,” he grinned, and suddenly all the concern you felt seemed to be melting away with laughter.

Amidst your giggles, you pressed your forehead to his and brought your hand to his jaw. “Honestly, you would have saved me so much trouble if you'd said something sooner,” you teased, but your cheeks were flushed with the weight of his confession. You lips pecked his as you nestled into his chest, allowing your head to rest against his shoulder. “I've always, well you've always been different, I guess. I'm not really allowed to act on that, though, you know, code of ethics,” you reminded him, pressing your ear to his chest to hear his heart. “I'm glad the feeling has always been mutual,” you finally whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Definitely mutual,” Mark agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple. You both knew there was plenty to discuss, like how you were going to tell JYP-PD-nim and what would happen to your job after that. In the moment, though, all that mattered was the way your warm limbs seemed to weave together perfectly as your hearts found a common rhythm, carrying you into a restful and much-needed sleep.


End file.
